r 

/i  J  Duke  University  Libraries 


t^T  The  Christian  s 

.^-^        j  Conf  Pam  12mo  #323 

/f-""      iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SOLDIER 


A   SERMON 


COMMEMORATIVE    OF    THE    DEATH 


ABRAM   C.    CARRINGTON. 


*'Be  of  good  >sourage  and  let  us  play  tho  men  for  our  people,  and  for  the  cities  of 
our  God:  and  the  Lord  do  that  which  sccmcth  him  good." — II  Samuel  x:  12. 


PREACHED     AND    rUBLISHED    BY    OIIDER    OF    THE    SESSION    OF    COLLEGE    CHUUCII,    DEC.    1862, 

BY 

ROBERT  L.  DABNEY,  D.  D. 


RICHMOND,   VA: 

1863. 


SERA'IO^. 


<'Be  of  good  courage  and  let  us  play  the  man  for  our  people,  and  for  the  cities  of  our 
God:  and  the  Lord  do  that  which  soernetli  him  good." — II  Samut.l  x:   12. 

The  'duties  of  patriotism  are  not  prominently  urged  in  Sacred  Scrip- 
ture. This  we  account  for,  not  by  supposing, .  with  a  certain  sickly 
school  of  moralists,  that  this  sentiment  is  selfish,  narrow,  or  inconsistent 
with  the  broadest  philanthropy  ;  but  by  the  facts,  that  the  obligations  of 
the  citizen  are  not  directly  religious,  and  that  they  are  so  natural  as  to 
require  little  inculcation.  The  Hebrew  scriptures  do  indeed  say  enough, 
as  in  the  text,  to  justify  an  intense  love  of  native  land  and  its  institu- 
tions. Civil  government  is  God's  ordinance,  and  if  it  be  just,  one  of 
his  greatest  temporal  ble<sing>^.  The  diversity  of  tongues,  characters, 
races,  and  interests  among  mankind,  forbid  their  union  in  one  universal 
commonwealth.  The  aggregation  of  men  into  separate  nations  is  there- 
fore necessary ;  and  the  authority  of  the  governments  instituted  over 
them,  to  maintain  internal  o-der  and^xternal  defence  against  aggres- 
sion, is  of  divine  appointment.  Hence,  to  sustain  our  government  with 
heart  and  hand,  is  not  only  made  by  God  our  privilege,  but  our  duty. 
Our  best  way  to  advance  the  well-being  of  the  race,  is  to  advance  tha^ 
of  the  portion  of  our  race  associated  with  us  in  the  same  society.  He 
who  extends  his  philanthropy  so  broadly,  as  to  refuse  a  special  attach- 
ment to  the  interests  of  his  own  people,  will  probably  make  it  so  thin, 
as  to  be  of  no  account  to  any  people.' 

I  therefore  believe  that  there  is  nothing  opposed  to  an  enlightened 
Christianity,  in  a  warm  patriotism  for  our  particular  country.  This;feel- 
ing  is  made  up  of  several  elements :  a  legitimate  regard  for  our  own 
welfare  and  worldly  estate,  interest  in  that  of  our  families,  and  a  wider 
benevolence  towarch  our  fellow-citizens  ;  together  with  an  honest  pride 
in  the  glories  of  our  history,  and  in  the  justice  of  our  institutions,  with 
the  attachment  of  local  affection  to  the  very  scenery  and  soil  of  our 
native  land. 

394G()Ji 


1 

The  text  expresses  this  sentiment  in  action  against  the  unrighteous 
assailant  of  our  country.  It  was  uttered  by  one  who  was  very  far  from 
being  a  friend  of  God  at  heart,  the  haughty  and  violent  Joab,  the  mur- 
derer of  Abner,  the  patron  of  the  dissolute  Absalom,  the  chieftain  who 
closed  his  stormy  career  by  bringing  his  hoar}^  head  at  last  to  the  block 
for  treason  against  his  master's  chosen  successor.  But  Joab  was  now 
the  lawfully  appointed  general  of  Israel :  although  not  a  child  of  God, 
he  was  probably  a  sincere  patriot ;  and  his  unsanctified  lips,  like  those 
of  Balaam,  were  now  employed  by  God  to  utter  words  of  truth  and  duty. 
We  regard  the  text  then,  as  <jod's  command,  not  because  it  was  spoken 
by  Joab,  but  because  his  language  is  virtually  sanctioned  by  the  Holy 
Ghost,  in  the  general  tenor  of  the  narrative,  and  the  issue  of  the  trans- 
action. The  Ammonites,  after  publicly  affronting  King  David's  ambas- 
sadors without  provocation,  had  hired  a  multitude  of  pagan  Syrians,  and 
were  threatening  to  desolate  the  land  of  the  Hebrews.  Joab  went  to 
meet  them,  and  after  making  the  most  prudent  disposition  of  his  forces, 
exiiorted  them:  "Be  of  good  courage,"  tc. 

Unprovoked  v>^ar  is  the  most  monstrous  secular  crime  that  can  be  com- 
mitted :  it  is  at  once  the  greatest  of  evils,  and  includes  the  worst  forms 
of  robbery  and  murder.  Wherever  war  is  prompted  by  mere  pique,  or 
lust  of  aggrandisement,  or  ambition  for  fame  and  power,  it  deserves  all 
that  can  be  said  of  its  mischiefs  and  criminality  by  the  most  zealous 
advocates  of  peace.  And  nothing  can  rescue  a  people  waging  war,  from 
this  guilt,  except  the  fact  that  their  appeal  to  arms  is  necessary  for  the 
flefence  of  just  and  vital  rights^  But  while  the  Scriptures  teach  this, 
they  giye  no  countenance  to  the  weak  fanaticism,  which  commands  gov- 
ernments to  practice  a  passive  non-resistance,  in  suck  a  world  as  this. 
Nations  are  usually  unjust  and  unscrupulous.  The  very  fact  that  they 
are  politically  sovereign,  implies  that  there  is  no  umpire  between  them, 
except  Divine  Providence.  A  passive  attitude  would  usually  only  provoke, 
instead  of  disarming  attack.  Hence  its  only  effect  would  be  to  bring  all 
the  horrors  and  desolations  of  in^"asion  upon  the  innocent  people,  while 
the  guilty  went  free.  God  has  therefore  both  permitted  and  instructed 
rulers,  when  thus  unjustly  assailed,  to  retort  these  miseries  upon  the  as- 
sailants who  introduce  them.  The  very  fact  that  all  war  is  so  terrific  a 
scourge,  and  that  aggressive  war  is  such  an  enormous  crime,  only  makes 
it  more  clear  that  the  injured  party  are  entitled  to  their  redress,  and 
are  justified  in  inflicting  on  the  injurers  such  chastisement  as  will  com- 
pel their  return  to  justice,  even  including  the  death  and  ruin  which  they 
were  preparing  ngain&t  their  inoffensive  neighbours. 


it  is  perfectly  clear  that  Sacred  Scripture  legalizes  such  defensive 
Avar.  Abram,  Moses.  Joshua,  Samuel,  David,  Josiah,  the  Maccabees, 
were  such  warriors :  and  ihej  w^ere  God's  chosen  saints.  It  was  ^'through 
Jaith  they  waxed  valiant  in  fight,  turned  to  flight  the  armies  of  the 
-aliens."  Heb.  11:  31.  God  fought  for  and  with  them  by  giving,  in 
their  battles,  answers  to  their  prayers,  and  miraculous  assistance  to  their 
arms.  Under  the  New  Testament,  when  Christ's  forerunner  was  preach- 
ing  the  baptism  of  repentance,  he  did  not  enjoin  on  soldiers  the  surren- 
der  of  their  profession  as  sinful,  but  only  the  restricting  of  themselves 
to  iis  lawful  duties.  The  New  Testament  tells  us  of  a  Centurion,  aftec- 
tionately  commended  by  our  Redeemer  as  possessed  of  "great  faith;" 
and  of  a  Cornelius,  who  was  "accepted  with  God,  as  fearing  him  and 
working  righteousness."  Luke,  3:  14.  7:  9.  Acts,  10:  35.  The 
Apostle  Paul,  Rom.  13:  4,  tells  us  that  the  magistrate  "beareth  not  the 
sword  in  vain ;  for  he  is  the  minister  of  God,  a  revenger  to  execute 
wrath  upon  him  that  doeth  evil."  It  would  be  strange  indeed,  if  the 
ruler  who  is  armed  by  God  with  the  power  of  capital  punishment  against 
the  domestic  murderer,  could  not  justly  inflict  the  same  doom  on  the  for- 
•  eign  criminal,  who  invades  our  soil  unprovoked,  for  the  purpose  of  shed- 
ding blood.  The  security  of  life  and  property  which  the  magistrate  is 
intended  to  provide  by  his  power  of  punishing,  would  be  illusory  indeed, 
if  it  Qould  only  bo  used  against  individual  criminals,  while  the  more  mis- 
chievcms  and  widespread  crimes  of  organized  multitudes  must  go  un- 
punished. Aggressive  war  is  wholesale  murder  ;  and  when  the  govern- 
ment sends  out  its  army  to  repel  and  ^hastise  the  invader,  it  does  but 
inflict  siunmary  execution  on  the  murderer  caught  in  the  act. 

I  have  briefly  stated  this  truth,  yi  order  to  ground  firmly  your  belief 
in  the  righteousness  of  the  calling  of  the  christian  soldier.  God  has 
authorized  him.  The  objects  for  which  he  contends  arc  excellent,  noble, 
yea  of  supreme  temporal  value:  "for  oui;  people  and  for  the  cities  of 
our  God."  Our  homes  and  the  shelter  of  our  families,  the  rio-hts  be- 
queatlied  to  us  by  our  ancestors,  the  whole  earthly' welfare  of  us  and  all 
our  fello»-citizens,  every  thing  which  is  included  as  valuable  in  the 
words,  my  country,  is  committed  to  his  protection.  And  how  much  that 
phrase  includes,  he  can  appreciate,  who,  as  a  conquered  exile,  has  no 
country  :  we  could  understand  in  part  lately,  when  we  began  to  fear  that 
this  fate  might  be^ours.  The  godly  soldier  is  called  to  defend  also,  the 
far  dearer  interests  of  the  church  of  God,  involved  in  so  many  ways 
with  those  of  the  country  in  which   it  is  planted.     He  protects  all  these 


^UAan'ji 


precious  objects  by  the  exercise  of  the  noblest  attributes  of  manhood, 
courage,  self-devotion,  faith  in  God. 

The  glory  of  the  soldier's  prowess  has  alwflys  inflamed  the  admira- 
tion, and  dazzled  the  fancy  of  mankind,  above  all  other  greatness.  To 
the  warrior  who  has  done  acts  of  high  emprise  on  the  bloody  field,  have 
ever  belonged  the  loudest  shouts  of  popular  applause.  The  multitudes 
throng  his  chariot  wheels  as  those  of  no  other  benefactor.  His  name  is 
written  highest  on  the  monumental  marble.  The  heart  of  ingenuous 
youth  thrills  more  warmly  as  he  reads  his  exploits  than  at  all  the  other 
marvels  of  history,  and  even  tender  woman  reserves  for  him  her  sweetest 
smiles:  "And  loves  him  for  the  dangers  he  has  passed."  Let  not  the 
pseudo-philanthropist  say  that  this  universal,  this  resistless  impulse  of 
the  popular  heart  is  merely  an  irrational  remnant  of  the  more  bloody 
and  ruthless  ideas  ot  Paganism,  or  a  gust  of  the  fancy  fevered  by  the 
romance 

'Of  moving  accidents  bj  flood  and  field, 
Of  hairbreadrh  'scapes  i'th'  imminent  deadly  breach;" 

that  it  is  unworthy  of  the  benevolence  and  knowledge  of  a  christian  age; 
that  the  admiration  of  men  should  rather  be  bestowed.on  those  who  bless 
by  the  gifts  of  science,  and  the  exertions  of  our  nobler  part,  the  mind, 
than  on  those  who  are  eminent  only  for  their  power  to  destroy ;  that  he 
who  has  "  made  two  blades  of  grass  to  grow  where  but  one  gi'ewb^ore," 
or  who  has  helped  to  civilize  his  fellows  by  invention  in  the  arts  orpeace, 
or  the  lessons  of  high  philosophy,  should  be  the  true  hero ;  and  not  he 
who  exhibits  the  might  of  a  mere  animal  rage  to  devastate  and  degrade. 
It  is  true  that,  if  this  admiration  of  the  military  virtues  is  bestowed 
on  the  hirelings,  the  mere  soldier  of  fortune,  or  the  scourge  of  nations, 
who,  like  "Macedonia's  madman  or  the  Swede,"  fights  from  the  lust  of 
fame  and  power  ;  it  is  a  monstrous  perversion.  But  the  great  instincts 
of  the  human  heart  and  reason  never  go  totally  astray.  These  per- 
verted instances  would  not  occur,  unless  thore  were  a  true  military  glory, 
to  blind  men  as  to  the  black  deformity  of  its  counterfeit.  This  univer- 
sal applause  of  the  martial  virtues  is  the  instinctive  testimony* of  man's 
heart  to  the  fact,  that  they  require  the  exercise  of  the  noblest  sentiments 
of  the  human  soul.  He  who  cultivates  the  arts  of  peace  does,  indeed, 
make  a  worthy  contribution  to  the  well-being  of  his  fellow-men :  but  he 
who  defends  them  with  his  life,  makes  the  contribution  of  supreme  value. 
He  maintains  that  peace  and  securit}^,  which  are  the  necessary  condi- 
tions for  enjoying  all  other  aquisitions.     But  for  his  protection,  it  would 


be  of  no  avail  to  the  citizens,  that  the  two  blades  of  grass  grew  for  every 
one  that  grew  before,  when  all  were  trampled  down  by  the  ruthless  in- 
vader. Nor  is  it  true  that  the  exploits  of  tlie  soldier  are  merely  those 
of  the  brute  muscle  and  sinew,  and  of  animal  courage.  War,  and  es- 
pecially modern  war,  is  not  an  unreasoning  art ;  but  it  is  a  profession,, 
requiring,  especially  in  its  leaders,  the  widest  combinations  of  the  ele- 
ments of  thought,  the  most  sleepless  reflection,  and  most  rapid  sagacity.  , 

But  the  true  glory  of  the  christian  soldier  is  in  this,  that  he  is  called 
to  the  noblest  exertions  of  the  emotions  and  the  will.  And  even  if  his 
occupation  were  contrasted  with  those  of  the  civilian  and  the  philoso- 
pher, as  being  non-intellectual,  which  we  have  denied,  the  moral  senti- 
ments which  actuate  his  exertions,  justify  the  exalted  admiration  of  his 
fellow-men.  For  the  heart  is  nobler,  wiser,  greater,  than  the  head. 
The  speculations  of  the  head  are  cold,  and  devoid  of  m.oral  trait.  It  is 
the  impulses  of  the  heart  which  characterize  man  as  a  moral  being.  To 
love  is  better  than  to  analyze.  To  will  magnanimously  is  more  noble 
than  to  invent.  Disinterestedness  is  more  excellent  than  ingenuity, 
and  courage  for  the  right  is  grander  than  talent.  If  a  man  go  upon  the 
battle  field  in  foolish  forgetfulness  of  his  duty  and  danger,  if  he  is  bold, 
merely  because  he  refuses  to  think ;  if  he  rushes  forward  only  with  the 
senseless  fury  of  the  bull  maddened  by  the  trumpet,  and 
"  His  courage  dwells  butiu  a  troubled  flood, 
Of  mounting  spirits  and  fermenting  blood;" 

if  he  is  moved  by  no  moral  appreciation  of  the  cause  for  which  he 
stakes  his  life  ;  he  is  not  brave ;  his  phrensy  is  not  true  courage  ;  he  is 
not  the  man  of  whom  we  speak,  how^ever  he  may  sometimes  intrude  him- 
self into  his  honour. 

But  let  us  suppose  the  christian  may,  who  wholly  prefers  peace  and 
its  joys  to  the  turmoil  of  war,  w^ho  considers  all  his  risk,  and  weighs 
well  the  preciousness  of  the  home,  the  life,  and  the  love,  from  which  a 
violent  death  would  tear  him,  but  who  yet  foregoes  those  dear  delights 
of  peace,  and  deserts  that  home  and  its  loves,  for  a  time,  and 
jeopards  life  itself,  reluctantly,  yet  vath  determination ;  because  he  finds 
that  duty  J  dearer  than  peace,  and  home  and  life,  demands  the  sacrifice. 
This  is  he  who  "  is  of  good  courage,  and  plays  the  man  for  his  people, 
and  for  the  city  of  his  God."  And  I  assert  this  christian  courage  is 
but  another  name  for  self-sacrifice.  It  does  but  postpone  self  to  duty, 
and  to  the  good  of  others.  Its  spirit  is  precisely  that  of  the  martyr, 
who  yields  up  his  life  rather  than  be  recreant  to  duty,  to  his  church, 
and  to  his  God.     It  expresses  the  same  disinterestedness,,  the  same  con- 


8 

secrution  to  the  sentiment  of  obligation,  the  same  faith  in  God.  I  be- 
lieve that  in  many  a  soldier  -who  is  now  baring  his  breast  as  a  bulwark 
for  our  rights,  this  determination  is  as  true  a  work  of  the  grace  of  God, 
as  was  ever  fulfilled  in  the  christian  martyr,  when  he  embraced  the  stake 
rather  than  deny  his  lord.  Yes,  this  courage,  I  assert  it  v,ith  reverence, 
is,  in  the  true,  christian  soldier,  but  the  reflection  in  his  humbler 
measure,  of  the  spirit  with  which  his  Divine  Master  set  his  face  stead- 
fastly towards  Jerusalem,  and  calmly  braved  the  baptism  of  fire  which 
awaited  him  there.  He  is  the  vine  ;  they  the  branches.  He  the  noblest 
exemplar  of  true  moral  courage,  they  the  feebler  reflectors  of  his  spirit, 
in  their  lower  spheres.  It  was  this  magnanimous  sacrifice  of  Christ 
which  purchased  for  him  the  throne  of  universal  dominion,  and  filled 
all  heaven  v/ith  the  acclaim  of  angels  and  ransom.ed  saints.  Shall  v>'G 
not  then  pay  to  his  followers,  when  for  their  humbler  imitation  of  his 
self-devotion,  they  die  for  their  people  and  the  city  of  their  God, 
the  best  tributes  of  our  earthly  afi'ections  ?  Such,  I  believe,  was  the 
courage  of  our  Brother,  prompted  indeed  by  a  chivalrous  and  honorable 
nature,  but  regulated  and  sustairTed  by  the  grace  of  God  derived  from 
the  example  and  spirit  of  Christ  his  head. 

The  temper  of  the  christian  soldier  is  also  one  of  high  faith,  and 
profound  submission  to  God.  While  he  plays  the  man  for  his  people, 
and  the  cities  of  his  God,  he  adds  :  "  And  the  Lord  do  that  which  scem- 
eth  him  good."  Here  is  a  recognition  of  the  overruling  Providence  of 
God,  in  the  fate  of  commonwealths  and  the  decision  of  battles.  Here 
is  expressed  a  hearty  confidence  in  the  wisdom,  goodness,  and  justice  of 
the  event  which  God  may  ordain,  and  acquiesce  in  His  decisions.  There 
is  here  no  senseless  fatalism,  dissevering  the  appointed  means  from  the 
desired  end,  and  reposing  in  vain  confidence,  or  supine  despair.  Eut 
the  truth  is  recognized  that  "duty  is  ours,  events  are  Gods."  Every 
nerve  is  strained  to  perform  the  task  alloted  by  the  providence  of  the 
hour,  manfully,  and  if  in  its  performance  death  or  defeat  is  met,  it  is 
well.  The  christian  accepts  this  result  as  a  revelation  of  the  fact  that 
this  was  the  hour,  and  this  the  place  appointed  by  God  for  his  end ;  and 
that,  therefore,  no  other  hour  and  place  can  be  so  suitable.  He  feels 
that  if  duty  be  courageously  done,  ail  else  will  be  secure.  He  may  die, 
but  the  cause  of  his  country  is  immortal ;  the  blood  with  which  he  en- 
riches her  soil  becomes  to  his  fellow-citizens  a  new  argument  of  the  pre- 
ciousness  of  the  cause  in  which  it  was  shed ;  and  a  sacred  pledge  to 
persevere  in  it  to  the  end.  Thus  the  blood  of  our  country's  martyrs 
becomes  the  seed  of  our  new  armies.     The  dying  patriot  achieves  more 


9 

for  her  by  his  death  than  by  all  his  life,  and  lays  down  his  sword  at  the 
gates  of  the  tomb,  in  the  triumphant  assurance,  that  a  people  contending 
for  their  right  in  the  fear  of  God,  will  be  made  invincible  by  His  aid. 
He  leaves  the  family  for  whose  home  he  was  fighting.  But  his  God  and 
a  grateful  country  become  their  guardians  in  his  place.  ^'I  have  been 
young,"  says  the  Psalmist,  "and  now  am  old,  yet  have  I  not  seen  the 
righteous  forsaken,  nor  his  seed  begging  bread."  Life  is  ended ;  but  it 
is  to  begin  a  better  life  in  heaven.  Matthew  10  :  39.  "  He  that  loseth 
his  life  for  Christ's  sake,  shall  find  it." 

Death,  and  especially,  vrhat  men  call  a  premature  death,  must  ever 
be  regarded  by  us  as  a  natural  evil.  If  I  should  profess  to  be,  myself,  or 
should  demand  of  you,  to  be  insensible  to  it,  you  would  justly  consider  me 
as  guilty  of  cant.  The  very  instincts  of  man's  animal  nature  abhor  it,  and 
his  earthly  affections  shudder  at  the  severance  which  it  effects  betweSi 
them  and  their  dear  objects.  So,  the  death  of  friends  cannotbut  be  a 
felt  bereavement  to  survivors,  be  its  circumstances  what  they  may.  But 
it  has  ^ver  appeared  to  me  that  in  the  fall  of  the  christian  soldier  in 
battle,  there  was  more  to  mitigate  the  stroke,  and  to  overcome  death  by 
the  victory  of  triumphant  consolation,  than  in  any  other  by  which  the- 
good  man  meets  his  fate.  The  unreflecting  may  be  startled  by  this  as- 
sertion. They  think  of  all  the  externals  of  a  death  on  the  battle  field ; 
of  the  ghastly  forms  in  which  the  destroyer  comes,  of  the  corpse  prone 
upon  its  mother  earth,  begrimed  perhaps  with  the  sweat,  and  dust  of  the 
conflict ;  of  the  burial  to  which  he  is  taken  fresh  and  gory  from  the 
field,  his  breast  unconfined  by  coffin  or  winding-sheet,  and  shrouded  only 
in  his  martial  cloak ;  and  of  the  nameless  grave  where  he  sleeps  alone 
in  his  blood.  All  this  is  pictured  in  contrast  with  the  solemn  decencies 
of  those  funeral  rites  which  affectio^i  renders,  in  more  peaceful  seasons, 
with  a  sort  of  mournful  delight.  They  afflict  themselves  with  the 
thought  that  no  friend  was  near  to  minister  to  his  pangs,  no  saintly  man 
of  God  to  calm  the  agitation  of  his  soul  by  his  prayers,  no  mother  or 
wife  to  receive  his  last  farewell ;  but  his  dying  groans  found  no  echo 
but  the  thunders  of  the  receding  battle. 

AVell:  all  these  tilings  arc  true;  too  often,  alas,  have  I  seen  them 
verified:  but  they  are  true  as  elements  of  pain  only  to  the  survi- 
vors. The  dying  hero  feels  them  not.  Here  is  our  allusion;  that 
we  cheat  our  sorrow  into  the  belief  that  these  ministrations  of 
affection  reach  the  insensible  clay ;  when  in  truth,  they  only  solace 
our  own  bereaved  affection.  Death  is  always  a  solitary  struggle.  How- 
ever we  may  be  sm-rounded  by  friends,  when  the  shadow  of  the  great 


10 

agony  falls  upon  us,  it  shuts  us  out  like  a  dark  veil  from  their  aid,  and 
we  must  meet  the  last  enemy  alone.  And  however  the  neglect  of  the 
beloved  remains  may  harrow  the  feelings  of  those  who  loved  him,  the 
departed  is  all  unconscious  of  it.  On  the  other  hand  is  it  nothing,  that 
he  is  translated  to  his  rcAvard  by  a  sudden  and  painless  stroke  ?  He 
feels  one  electric  shock,  as  the  deadly  missile  smites  him,  and  then,  the 
very  capacity  for  pain  is  benumbed,  and  awakes  no  more,  till  he  awakes 
in  that  world  where  pain  is  unknown.  He  has  no  share  in  the  long  tor- 
tures of  wearing  sickness,  or  the  mortifying  decay  of  age  :  he  feels  none 
of  the  anxious  forebodings,  the  hope  deferred  waning  into  sickening 
despair,  by  which  the  more  peaceful  bed  of  disease  is  haunted.  Death 
casts  none  of  its  shadows  before.  But  in  place  of  all  this,  there  is  the 
calm  testimony  of  a  good  conscience,  the  elation  of  the  manly  soul 
nerving  its  noblest  powers  for  duty,  the  tumultuous  rapture  of  those 
powers  in  highest  action,  the  generous  emulation,  the  hope  of  triumph, 
the  joy  of  victory.  And  in  the  midst  of  this  exaltation  of  soul  comes 
the  sudden  stroke,  and  death  is  finished  almost  before  it  is  felt,  v  Such 
an  end  is  not  a  death ;  it  is  a  translation.  Shall  the  bereaved  count  it 
no  compensation  for  their  loss  too,  that  the  warmest  instincts  of  every 
man's  soul  declare  the  glory  of  the  soldier's  death  ?  There  is  solace  in 
this,  yea  more  than  consolation,  there  is  proud  triumph  in  it.  And  it  is 
a  triumph  not  unworthy  of  the  christian  heart.  It  is  even  more  appro- 
priate to  us,  than  it  was  to  the  Greek,  to  sing 

'•  Glorious  his  f;\te,  and  envied  is  his  lot, 
Vrho  for  his  country  fights,  and  for  it  dies." 

For  we  contend  not  only  for  the  lawful  interests  of  home  and  country, 
but  for  the  more  precious  and  sacred  cause  of  God,  and  of  souls.  I  am 
not  one  of  those  who  hold,  that  these  sentiments  are  the  birth  only  of  pagan 
ferocity,  or  unholy  pride.  The  principles  of  personal  honour,  and  the  love 
of  glory  have  been  perverted  among  us,  into  a  code  of  wickedness  and 
bloody  retaliation,  [for  which  we  now  doubtless  suffer  the  chastisement 
of  an  offended  God].  Fi-om  this  abuse,  a  spurious  and  debased  puri- 
tanism  has  taken  occasion  to  decry  all  such  sentiments,  until  they  seem 
to  be  vanished  from  among  them  ;  and  the  vileness  of  public  morals 
which  is  the  consequence  of  this  extreme,' has  become  as  loathesome  as 
the  other  was  violent.  But  there  is  a  true  glory,  and  a  true  honour,  that 
which  Cometh  from  God  and  not  from  man  ;  the  glory  of  duty  done,  of 
obstacles  overcome,  of  fears  resisted,  and  of  generous  sacrifices  made  to 
a  worthy  cause ,  the  honour  of  an  integrity  of  principle,  stronger  than 
the  sense  of  pain  or  the  fear  of  death.     He  deserves  most  of  this  honor 


11 

who,  from  pure  motives,  braves  'the  direst  evik^  ^iid  pays  the  costliest 
sacrifice  for  the  noblest  object.  What  fear  can  be  darker  than  that  of 
death  ?  What  more  precious  than  life  ?  AVhat  object  more  worthy  than 
the  cause  of  our  country  and  our  God  ?  In  attuning  our  souls  so  as  to 
make  them  thrill  at  the  applause  of  our  fellows,  our  Creator  doubtless 
assigned  to  this  affection  some  legitimate  scope.  Its  lawful  exercise  is 
found,  when  we  seek  the  approbation  of  the  good  and  wise,  which  is  but 
the  echo  of  the  Divine  verdict  "well  done,  good  and  faitlttul  servant." 
Such  applause,  when  nobly  won,  is  valuable;  it  is  ennobling.  It  is  an 
inheritance  of  honour  to  the  children  who  emulate  the  virtues  that  won  it. 
Is  there  one  who  "  hath  the  stomach  and  mettle  of  a  man,"  that  would  not 
rather  leave  his  sons  freemen,  enriched  o]dy  with  this  heritage,  won  for 
them  by  a  father's  blood,  than  wealthy  slaves  ?  And  is  there  a  true 
woman,  who  would  not  elect,  heart-rending  as  it  might  be  to  make  the 
election,  to  be  the  widow  of  such  a  christian  hero,  than  to  live  in  the 
embraces  of  a  dishonored  and  abject  m.an,  the  serf  of  despots? 

The  doctrine  tshich  I  have  now  drawn,  as  I  believe  from  the  word  of 
God,  finds  strong  illustration  in  the  death  of  Lieutenant  Carrington. 
My  conception  of  the  proper  objects  of  funernl  discourses  has  usually 
forbidden  all  eulogistic  reference  to  tlie  dead.  If  its  purpose  were  to 
gratify  or  benefit  the  departed,  it  would  be  superstitious  folly.  Not 
only  are  they  forever  removed  beyond  the  reach  of  our  appjause  or 
*  blame,  but  beside  the  solemnities  of  that  bar,  before  which  they  have 
been  arraio-ned,  our  verdict  would  seem  to  them  infinitely  trivial  and 
impertinent.  If  the  purpose  of  funeral  encomiums  is  to  compliment 
bereaved  survivors,  it  might  be  admitted  to  be  socially  amiable ;  but  to 
employ  the  pulpit  for  such  a  purpose  is  a  perversion.  God  has  ap- 
pointed him  who  stands  here,  to  be  the  herald  of  His  truth  alone.  No 
other  message  is  allowed  to  proceed  from  his  mouth.  The  only  lawful 
purpose  of  these  services  is  to  commend  that  truth  to  the  living. 

But  God  sometimes  teaches  us  by  example;  and  when  his  grace  has 
given  to  the  church  an  instance  peculiarly  bright,  it  should  be  improved, 
to  impress  the  lessons  of  Christianity  by  the  aid  of  the  affections  and 
memories  which  cluster  around  it,  upon  the  hearts  of  survivors.  To 
pass  over  such  a  christian  character  as  that  of  our  brother,  and  let  his 
memory  drop  in  silence  without  thanksgiving  to  Him  who  formed  him 
to  holiness,  would  be  ingratitude  to  God,  and  neglect  of  the  instruction 
of  his  church.  For  never  have  I  known  a  man,  in  whom  grace  bore 
more  excellent  fruit,  in  its  short  summer  time,  than  in  him.  Under  the 
ministry  of  the  late  venerable   p:vUor,  Doctor  Rice,  the  ?acred  instruc- 


12 

?  « 

tions  of  his  childhood  i-ipened  into  faith,  and  he  devoted  his  early  man- 
hood to  God.  From  the  very  first,  his  modest,  brave,  and  honorable 
nature  displayed  the  refining  influence  of  grace  ;  and  he  assumed  at  once 
the  standing  of  a  thorough  christian.  His  religion  v/as  of  that  type 
which,  like  Joshua's  and  Caleb's  "  followed  the  Lord  fully."  -  The  result 
was  that  after  two  years,  he  was  introduced  into  the  eldership,  with  the 
unanimous  approval  of  the  church.  In  that  office  he  was  a  model  of 
fidelity,  ever  postponing  his  private  convenience  to  the  calls  and  duties 
of  the  elder,  firm  in  discipline,  in  purity  of  life  an  "ensample  to  the 
flock,"  and  ready  to  assume  any  burden  of  labor  or  responsibility  to 
v/hich  duty  called  him ;  so  that  though  of  all  men  most  modest  and  least 
pragmatical,  he  soon  found  the  largest  share  of  the  church's  work  resting 
on  his  shoulders.  It  was  thus  that  I  came,  first  as  stated  supply,  and 
then  as  pnstor  of  this  church,  to  know  and  love  him.  If  I  did  not  know 
that  my  estimate  is  warmly  sustained  by  all  who  knew  him  best,  I  should 
suspect  myself  of  a  too  partial  affection,  and  put  a  constraint  upon  my 
heart  and  lips.  For  truly  can  I  say  that  my  soul  waft  knit  to  his,  as 
the  souls  of  David  and  Jonathan.  And  now  that  I  have  lost  him,- 1  can 
find  no  words  to  express  my  personal  bereavement,  better  than  those  of 
David  in  the  requiem  of  his  princely  friend :  '•  How  are  the  mighty 
fallen  in  the  midst  of  battle  !  0  Jonathan,  thou  wast  slain  in  thy  high 
places — I  am  distressed  for  thee,  my  brother  Jonathan ;  very  pleasant 
hast  thou  been  unto  me" — [II.  Sam.  1 :  25,  26.] 

Need  I  commend  his  kindness  as  a  neighbor,  when  I  see  so  many 
glistening  eyes  before  me  attest  it?  Neecj  I  remind  you  of  his  public 
spirit,  his  inflexible  integrity,  his  courage  for  the  right  in  this  commu- 
nity ?  On  the  graces  of  his  character  as  son,  brother,  husband,  father, 
in  the  interior  circles  of  his  home,  the  sacrcdness  of  the  grief  which  his 
loss  has  left  behind  it  almost  forbid  me  to  enlarge.  Abram  C.  Carring- 
ton  was  the  truest  man  with  vrhose  friendship  it  was  ever  my  lot  to  be 
blest.  Let  him  but  be  convinced,  in  his  clear  and  honest  judgment,  of 
the  call  of  duty,  and  his  efi^ort  to  accomplish  it  was  as  certain  as  the 
rising  of  the  sun ;  and  it  was  made  at  once,  without  a  pause  to  consider 
vrhether  the  task  vras  easy  and  pleasant,  or  arduous  and  repulsive.  Let 
him  once  bestow  his  friendship  upon  you ;  and  he  was  yours  in  every 
trial,  with  fortune,  and  hand,  and  heart,  and,  if  need  be,  life  blood. 

As  a  soldier,  his  courage  was  of  the  truest  temper.  His  comrades 
whom  I  see  before  mc,  will  remember  how  his  body  was  prostrate  with 
disease  at  the  first  battle  of  Manassas,  but  the  energy  of  a  determinate 
will  seemed  to  be  medicine  Ux  his  weakness;  so  that  instead  of  making 


13 

it  an  excuse  for  going  to  the  rear,  as  so  many  did,  his  spirit  invigorated 
his  failing  strength.  In  the  hattle  of  Gaines'  Mill,  where  ins  regiment 
had  one  man  of  every  three  struck,  his  gallantry  TN^as  conspicuous  :  and 
on  Monday,  June  30th,  at  Frazier's  Farm,  he  Avas  encouraging  and 
cheering  on  his  men,  when  he  fell,  with  a  bullet  through  his  breast.  His 
was  the  courage  of  the  christian.  It  was  as  truly  exhibited  by  his  steady 
christian  example  in  the  camp,  as  on  the  field.  In  a  letter  written  on 
the  morning  of  the  day  he  died,  wliile  cfescribing  the  carnage  through 
which  his  company  passed  the  Friday  before,  he  modestly  says  of  him- 
self: ''Amidst  it  all,  I  lifted  up  my  heart  to  God  in  prayer  for  safety, 
and,  thanks  to  his  holy  name,  he  was  pleased  to  hear  me."  In  the  same 
calm  spirit,  he  again  commits  himself  to  God  in  prayer  and  well  doing, 
with  reference  to  the  bloody  day  before  him. 

And  now,  my  hearers,  of  what  use  shall  this  symmetrical  and  lovely 
example  be  to  us  ?  Let  mc  exhort  the  young  men  of  this  community  to 
be  "followers  of  him  as  he  also' was  of  Jesus  Christ."  And  especially 
would  I  now  commend,  by  his  example,  the  sacredand  religious  duty  of 
defending  the  cause  for  which  he  died.  In  the  death  of  him  and  others 
who  went  from  our  midst,  of  such  noble  spirits  as  Abram  and  Edgar 
Carrington,  of  Peyton  and  Dabney  Harrison,  of  Hugh  White,  of  John 
Thornton,  and  all  their  noble  fellowship  of  martyrs,  I  see  a  new  argu- 
ment for  consecrating  ourselves  to  our  country's  cause,  and  defending  it 
with  invincible  tenacity.  Surely  their  very  blood  should  cry  out  against 
us  from  the  ground,  if  w^e  permitted  the  soil  which  drank  the  precious 
libation,  to  be  polluted  with  the  despot's  foot !  Shall  it  ever  be  that 
our  feebleness  or  discouragcm.ents  shall  make  the  costly  sacrifice  vain  V 
If  this  is  to  be,  then  was  it  not  treacherous  in  us  to  invite  it?  We 
should  rather  have  warned  them  to  restrain  their  generosity,  to  save  the 
lives  they  were  so  ready  to  sacrifice  on  their  country's  altar,  as  too  pre- 
cious to  be  wasted  for  a  land  occupied  by  predestined  slaves  and 
cowards,  and  to  carry  their  patriotism  and  their  gifts  to  some  more  pro- 
pitious clime,  and  some  worthier  companionship.  But  we  have  invited 
the  sacrifice  ;  we  have  received  it ;  and  before  God,  I  take  you  to  witness 
this  day,  that  its  blood  seals  uponyyou  the  obligation  to  fill  their  places 
in  your  country's  host,  and  "  play  the  men  for  your  people  and  the 
cities  of  your  God,"  to  the  complete  vindication  of  their  rights. 

Let  me  also  commend  the  example  of  our  brother  to  my  co-presby- 
ters, the  ciders  of  his  church.  How  many  of  us,  my  brethren,  how 
many  of  you,  who  have  instructed  me  to  preach  this  sermon,  and  display 
.the  lessons  of  the  life  we  have  reviewed,  will  come  up  to  the  measure  of 


14 

his  fidelity,  of  his  manly  and  vigorous  piety,  of  Ins  industry  in  the  con- 
cerns of  God's  house  ?  Who  -svill  fill  tlie  breach  Ave  now  feel  ?  Happy 
would  that  people  be,  whose  pastors  were  always  actuated  by  his  steady 
zeal !  And  I  will  add,  boldly  bidding  away  every  thought  of  personal 
offence,  by  the  awful  solemnities  of  that  bourne  whence  our  dead  col- 
league's example  preaches  to  us;  happy  would  those  pastors  be,  whose 
Session  all  sustained  them  like  other  Abram  Carrin^tons  ! 


15 


THOU  ART  GONE  TO  THE  GRAVE 


Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave,  but  we  will  not  deplore  thee ; 
Though  sorrows ♦nd  darkness  encompass  the  tomb, 
The  Saviour  has  passed  through  its  portals  before  thee, 
And  the  lamp  of  his  love  is  thy  guide  through  the  gloom. 

Thou  art  gone   to  the   grave — we  no  longer  behold    thee, 
Nor  tread  the  rough  path  of  the  world  by  thy  side ; 
But  the  wide  arms  of  mercy  are  spread  to  enfold  thee, 
And  sinners  may  hope,  since  the  sinless  has  died. 

Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave,  and  its  mansions  forsaking. 

Perhaps  thy  tried  spirit  in  doubt  lingered  long ; 

But  the  sunshine  of  heaven  beamed  bright. on  thy  waking, 

And  the  song  that  thou  hcard'st  was  the  seraphim's  song, 
Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave,  but  'twere  wrong  to  deplore  thee, 
When  God  was  thy  ransom,  thy  guardian,  and  guide  ; 
He  gave  thee,  and  took  thee,  and  soon  will  restore  thee,    • 
AVhere  death  has  no  sting,  since  the  Saviour  hath  died, 


Hollinger  Corp.  j 

pH  8.5  ^ 


